


Phoenix and Dragon

by ninemoons42



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Cross-cultural, Crossdressing, First Meetings, Holding Hands, Inspired by Art, Kid Fic, Kimono, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-06
Updated: 2011-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles and Erik as children in Japan, on an auspicious occasion such as the New Year. A cleaned-up and edited version of the entry I posted to my tumblr <a href="http://tumblr.com/x9j4jcwo7i">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phoenix and Dragon

  
title: Phoenix and Dragon  
author: [](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ninemoons42**](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/)  
word count: 540  
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]  
pairing: Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr  
rating: G  
notes: Quick little AU fic inspired by [this cute photo](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lqyhv1nTUY1qjtegvo1_500.jpg) from Tumblr. Basically, Charles and Erik as children in Japan, on an auspicious occasion such as the New Year. A cleaned-up and edited version of the entry I posted to my tumblr [here](http://tumblr.com/x9j4jcwo7i).

  
The funny thing was, Charles actually understood why his guardians had decided to dress him up as a girl. The past winter had been so cold that the other children had been dropping like flies, catching terrible colds and fevers as the months wore on, and now he was the only boy in his class who had not yet gotten sick. His guardians were fearful that the illness would strike him with redoubled strength, hence the attempt to hide him from the spirits that they believed would be looking for him, by disguising him as a girl.

Good thing his hair was just barely long enough to tie into a knot at the back of his head; his guardians attempted to complete the illusion by sticking a handful of beautiful hair pins into the knot. One pin was tipped with a small cluster of pearls; another was black wood inlaid with silver; and a third was decorated with a series of silver rings that moved when he did.

It was a little difficult to walk the short distance to the temple, probably a combination of the clogs and of the constricting skirts. But he had to admit, when he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror or in a window, that it all looked pretty good on him. Scarlet and gold set off with black accents, a complete contrast to his pale skin and his freckles and his blue eyes. He took the names of the bird taking flight around his knees from one of the women – _houou_ to many of them, _fenghuang_ to a few others: the phoenix, king of birds. The golden threads that made up its beautiful wings.

At the temple, Charles clapped his hands softly together in imitation of his guardians – and then he caught the sound of someone else speaking in accented, _foreign_ Japanese, someone who might be like him, marooned here in a different place and time – and he slipped away from the others as soon as he could.

For some reason he was instantly drawn to the boy with the messy hair, standing with his back to him, in a black kimono and a striped hakama. The back of the kimono bore a magnificent dragon design; there was supposed to be something important about the fact that it had five claws on its feet, but Charles couldn’t remember what it was. As Charles approached him, he could hear the other boy muttering – now in English, and that gave him hope; now in another language, something he couldn’t understand.

Just as he was about to reach out and tap the other boy on the shoulder, he turned around, and Charles felt his eyes widen, felt himself break into a smile, surprised and pleased. “Hello.”

The other boy squinted at him thoughtfully, and then held out his hands to him. His hands were larger than Charles’s. “Hello. You are not from here.”

“As you are not.”

“Erik, from Poland,” the other boy said.

“I’m Charles, from England and the United States.”

“You’re a boy.”

“And?”

“Nothing.” Erik smiled, then, and waggled his hands out in front of him, invitingly. “Come and play with me.”

Charles laughed and took his hands.  



End file.
